Les parapluies de Cherbourg

Always I considered this film as brilliant example of real cinema. for reasons escaping from the skin of words. for a special form of beauty. for the courage of director. for performances and colors and story. and, yes, especially for music. it seems be a musical. but it is so different by one ! for a sort of...magic. who remains in your memory. who determes you to see it time by time. and for the great emotion defining it as a n experience. it is real cinema example because it is not entertainment. it is not refuge for blockbuster pieces. it is not a demonstration. it is not a show. it could be a confession. about love, life, Cherbourg, umbrellas shop and compromises. in the most delicate and precise manner. a film who remains the best answer when, for understand the life, need, for 90 minutes, escape from it. a gem, maybe. or just the real cinema.

Some things are so wonderful you can't quite believe they exist. A technicolour heaven with a young Catherine Deneuve at her most beguiling and beautiful in a film that's entirely sung in the most exquisite way? Pinch me, I still can't get over the fact this film exists.

Everyone has a film they return to when they're feeling jaded, sick of Hollywood or simply because it's raining outside. I have two films I turn to at these times. One is Singin' in the Rain; the other is this little gem. Both transport me to a world of colour, joy and heartache, yet both stay just the right side of sentimental too.

Of course the plot is a little convoluted; of course the entirely sung script makes it a little jarring at first - but just sit back and let Les Parapluies do its magic. You won't regret it. I promise ;-)

A very French, very idiosyncratic musical that while lacking any discernible 'songs' or dance routines manages to be one of the most affecting musicals ever written. Remy says he was inspired by American musicals, and yet a more non-American could hardly be imagined. Can we really pretend that an American studio in 1963 would endorse the story of pre-marital sex and the romance of marrying a 17-year old girl pregnant with another man's child and not feel the need to moralize or condemn? Only in France, and thank God for it. All the cast are brilliant - charming and charismatic; the production design looks like a psychedelic gingerbread house; the score is exceptional; the singing genuinely heart-felt and moving; and the whole thing is carried off with such effortless confidence and unreserved joy that it's impossible not to fall in love with it.

'Les Parapluies de Cherbourg/The Umbrellas of Cherbourg' is one of those musicals which shouldn't really work, but does. It lacks big song and dance numbers (the only song which has really gone into the public consciousness is the one known in English as 'I Will Wait For You'), but nevertheless, Michel Legrand's score is addictive and effective.

In Jacques Demy's film everything, even the most dull and ordinary of settings, bursts with life and colour. The film boasts one of the most beautiful colour palettes ever seen on the screen, right from the opening scene of umbrellas in primary colours rushed by anonymous people through a rainstorm.

And the film has the young Catherine Deneuve. She is of course as luminous and colourful as her surroundings. As Genevieve, her love affair with Guy represents the first part of the the film, the second and third parts following each of them exclusively. The film says that life choices can't always be what we want, and mistakes have to be made. It is a bittersweet message which means that this film is no fairytale.

The first of the three segments is perhaps the sunniest film ever made. It's a totally original film (at least from what I've seen); so original, in fact, that at first it's kind of off-putting -- the artificiality of the bubble gum colors (in the first segment, as they change slightly as each moves into the next), the constantly moving camera, and the fact that all of the lines are sung makes it hard to get situated within the film, for the same reason that you turn the car radio down when you're driving down a street trying to read house numbers. ("I can't follow the plot, they keep singing...") And yet Demy isn't satisfied with just being sunny (and his brightness is never garish); each segment has a specific feel, the grandest being the last, with an ending that's just right. (Though it should be said that Demy never once sacrifices the pleasure he creates, nor does he fall into any stale conventions, even while his story is based on the oldest of movie clichés -- wait for me!).

I hesitate to use the word melodrama, but that's essentially what the film is, both for the meaning of the word "melo" (music) and for the heightened emotions brought on my the music. It feels like we've got our head in the clouds, not least of all because the acting is aided by, well, the singing. The music, which is nearly always splendid (and never song-and-dancey), compliments the actors. At first the acting is very plain; or at least, it seems that way. I think that's due to the unconventional approach. Deneuve's loveliness as a young woman keeps us from responding to much aside from her beauty (and she starts off as a typical love-struck sixteen year-old), but by the end she's quite a different person, and to overuse a term applied to Deneuve, she becomes elegant. (I kept looking at her handsome costar thinking Alain Delon would have been perfect in the role; then I learned his most noteworthy film aside from this one was the Delon-starring Visconti film, "Rocco and His Brothers.) Surely some people would probably vomit at a film of such shameless exhibitionism and style, but I was left astonished, thinking, How in the hell did they pull it off? 9/10